


transfixed by things that bite

by nezstorm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood and Gore, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt Peter, I don't agree to sharing my work on other sites, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: "Let's be honest, this could have been worse. I could have died.""No,” Stiles said, hollowed out, blank-faced as he watched Peter wipe away the blood with his handkerchief, “that'd have made things a whole lot better."





	transfixed by things that bite

**Author's Note:**

> A lil' something because I wanted to write steter again.

"Let's be honest, this could have been worse. I could have died."

"No,” Stiles said, hollowed out, blank-faced as he watched Peter wipe away the blood with his handkerchief, “that'd have made things a whole lot better."

Absently he wondered if Peter ordered them by the bulk - the handkerchiefs, seeing as they were white and pristine whenever he pulled one out to clean out the blood. Was it even worth it to wash them, the way Peter went through them? 

Most of the time the blood wasn’t Peter’s though, but the leftovers of the fights he’s won.

Most of the time Stiles didn’t have to watch Peter  _ fall _ , impaled on a rod as crimson spread around him on the concrete, some of it bubbling out of Peter’s mouth as he laughed, briefly, sniped something back when Stiles cried out for him. 

Most of the time Stiles didn’t have to wonder if this was it, Beacon Hills taking another thing from him the way it swallowed his mother, his childhood, his innocence, every single thing he held dear.

The hand that touched him, breaking him out of his thoughts, was still slightly smudged with blood. “Stiles?” Peter asked, concern clear in his voice. He must have been trying to catch Stiles’ attention for a while.

Ironic, wasn’t it, that it was Peter that was worried about Stiles right now, when it was Peter that almost died tonight.

“I think I’ll sleep at my dad’s tonight,” Stiles told him, looking through Peter instead of at him, at the man he cared too much for to bear losing him.

“Stiles,” Peter said again, clearly aware that something was wrong, holding onto Stiles’ wrist, but lightly enough that Stiles easily slipped from his hold.

“I’ll be back home tomorrow,” Stiles promised absently, already turning away, unable to look at Peter right then with his shirt torn and dripping, the handkerchief abandoned on the ground. 


End file.
